Don't forget to feed the dog - aka Prologue

Scars look pretty, he thought to himself, and it was a good thing he did, his arms, his chest, his legs, all riddled with lines of unidirectional tissue. Sometimes he goes over an old one, the sensation is different, little catches like bumps in the road, the blade skips and trips, the drips come unevenly.

He's beyond pain or pleasure in this ritual now, first pain, then pleasure, now, now what, why now? The growl jolts him back to close enough reality. Oh, yeah, that's why.

The old line reopened, but not enough flowing he adds another, and another, and-no, that should be enough. The drops hit the metal dish. Tang, it's the best descriptor, both in sound, taste, and smell. When the blood stops tang-ing and starts plopping, he lifts his arm. He makes to leave and another growl fills the air.

He stops, those kinds of scars, the ones its gives, aren't pretty, they're all jagged and uncontrolled, not smooth lines or artistic spirals. It wants more, how? He can't give much more, another growl, okay he can give a lot more. Ten pints more, or a half pint more, it's his choice. He sits back over the bowl, and reopens the triskele, his favourite, his work of art. It gives readily, and soon the dog's tongue is licking greedily at the bowl, making the liquid inside slosh back and forth.

He promptly goes unconscious. When he awakes the bleeding has stopped, he isn't so stupid as to cut deep enough to kill himself, and the dog has fallen asleep. He gets up, puts his clothes back on and exits the small room.

Back to everyday, he thinks. He has given up on trying to tell if the dog is real, if what he is doing is saving anyone else from harm. It doesn't matter really, every week the bowl is empty, licked clean, and he can hear the dog awaken and growl in his mind.

Whether the obsession is his or the dog's he doesn't know. But, he thinks as the scabs form to crackling perfection, he doesn't really mind either. Thinking he has to keep some demon dog appeased gives him a purpose. In the unlikely event that he isn't crazy, he's actually a hero, and that's kind of cool.




A/N: So I wrote this quickly just to generate something to post, umm I sort of took the idea of obsession behind EAT and the form of the black dog and crossed them into unholy matrimony? Love it hate it? I really would appreciate some feedback.